


Three History Channel Judges and Their Host Walk into A Bar

by amosanguis



Series: author's fave [62]
Category: Forged In Fire RPF
Genre: Crack, Gen, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 11:06:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10615611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amosanguis/pseuds/amosanguis
Summary: “Do we know which of these menu items willnotbe moving forward?” Wil asks.“The broccoli and potato soup, for sure,” Doug answers.  “I like the bread bowl, it’s a nice touch, but it’s just not up to our standards.”





	1. going out to eat

**Author's Note:**

> \--I have nothing against the food items mentioned  
> \--There is absolutely nothing serious about this fic  
> \--More chapters may be forthcoming depending on ideas I get

“Do we know which of these menu items will _not_ be moving forward?” Wil asks.

“The broccoli and potato soup, for sure,” Doug answers.  “I like the bread bowl, it’s a nice touch, but it’s just not up to our standards.”

“I have to agree,” J says, nodding his head.  “And I think we’re all in agreement that the pulled pork wrap won’t be moving forward, either.  It’s fine for the first round, but this round?  There’s just not enough there to be filling.”

“Alright, judges,” Wil says, setting down his menu and steepling his fingers, “have you all made your decision?  J?  Dave?  Doug?”  The judges all nod.  “Ok,” Wil says, raising his arm and motioning to their server, “let’s go tell our waitress.”


	2. getting robbed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sir,” Wil says, “it looks like your weapon did not make the cut. I’m gonna have to ask you to surrender your blade and leave the alley.”

The guy on the ground groans as Wil casually hands over the knife to Dave.

“Dave,” he says, “what do you think of this robber’s blade?”

“Very nice,” he says, he eyes the knife carefully, his eyebrows furrowing as he squints.  “It’s got a lovely handle and the metal itself looks well forged.”

“Great,” Wil says.  He looks over to the robber, who had rolled over onto his stomach and was trying to get onto his hands and knees.  “But as we all know, looks are secondary to performance.  Doug?”

Doug accepts the knife from Dave and tries out first one test slice against the air, and then a second.  “It has nice balance,” he says, making a thrusting motion.  “There’s a good distribution between the weight of the handle and the weight of the blade.”

Then Doug is moving over to the alley dumpster – then he’s thrusting the knife into the side once, twice, and on the third thrust, the knife shatters.  He looks over at the robber and says, “This blade will _not_ kill.”

The judges all _tsk_ and shake their heads.

Wil sighs before he turns to the robber, now on one knee, his hands braced against the ground as he tried to stand.

“Sir,” Wil says, “it looks like your weapon did _not_ make the cut.  I’m gonna have to ask you to surrender your blade and leave the alley.”

The man groans as he falls backwards, landing on his butt as his eyes roll back into his head and passes out.


End file.
